ON THE REVERENCE WHICH IS DUE TO chiefly because they have been arrived REVEALED TRUTH. (By the Rev. Robert Hall.) In the statement of the peculiar doctrines of Christianity, there are two extremes to be avoided. The one is, that of pusillanimously shrinking from their bold originality, and attempting to recommend them to the acceptance of proud and worldly-minded men, by the artifices of palliation and disguise; -the other extreme is, that of stating them in a metaphysical form, mixing doubtful deductions with plain assertions, and thereby encumbering them with needless subtleties and refinements. We should neither be ashamed of the dictates of the Spirit, nor" add to his words, lest we be reproved." They will always appear with most advantage, and carry the most conviction, when they are exhibited in their native simplicity, without being mixed with heterogeneous matter, or with positions of doubtful authority. In our apprehension, the true way of contemplating the peculiar doc trines of Christianity, is, to consider them as facts believed on the authority of the supreme Being; not to be proved by reason, since their truth does not result from any perceptible relation in our ideas, but they owe their existence entirely to the will and counsel of the Almighty Potentate. On this account, we never consider it safe to rest their truth on a philosophical basis, nor imagine it is possible to add to their evidence by an elaborate train of reasoning. Let the fair grammatical import of scripture language be investigated, and whatever propositions are, by an easy and natural interpretation, deducible from thence, let them be received as the dictates of infinite wisdom, whatever aspect they bear, or whatever difficulties they present. Repugnant to reason they never We at, step by step, by means of their analogy to some preceding one. have climbed the eminence by a slow progression, and our prospect has insensibly widened as we advanced, instead of being transported thither instantaneously by a superior power. Revelation conducts us to the truth at once, without previous training, without any intellectual process preceding, without condescending to afford other proof than what results from the veracity and wisdom of the Creator; and when we consider that this truth respects much sublimer relations and concerns than those which subsist in the material world, that it regards the ways and counsels of God, respecting man's eternal destiny, is it surprising it should embrace what greatly surpasses our previous conjectures, and even transcends our perfect comprehension? To a serious and upright mind, however, its discoveries are no sooner made, than they become supremely acceptable: the interposition of the Deity in the great moral drama is seen to be absolutely necessary; since none but infinite wisdom could clear up the intricacies, nor any power short of omnipotence relieve the distress it produced. These very truths, which some ridicule as mysteries, and others despise as dogmas, are to the enlightened, "sweeter than honey, or the honeycomb;" apart from which, whatever else is contained in the Bible, would be perfectly tasteless and insipid. Though he receives every communication from God with devout and grateful emotions, he feels no hesita tion in confessing, that it is on these parts of revelation he especially exults and triumphs; it is these, which, in his estimation, entitle it to the appellation of "marvellous.light.". COWPER. No. XX.-The Theatre. "Away went Gilpin, neck or naught, Away went hat and wig; He little dreamt when he set out, Of running such a rig." It is my custom, when the weather is fine, and the darkness of winter prevents me not, to take a solitary walk just after tea, at that time which is generally denominated the cool of the evening. It was at the close of a fine half-summer, half-autumnal day, a few years since, that, as I was returning home from one of these excursions, a thin, pale young man, with remarkably shabby, but which had been fashionable apparel on his back, a perfectly yellow-coloured shirt, that peeped from the top of his waistcoat, and shoes that seemed never to have been blacked,-thrust a hand-bill into my hand. I opened it immediately, and found that its intention was to announce the fact, that a company of players would commence their performances the next evening, in a new theatre which had been recently erected in our town. I returned home with the paper in my hand; and laying it before me on a table in my parlour, read it carefully through; and as I took my spectacles from my nose, after the operation, I thought to myself, that I would carefully watch the progress of play-acting, and observe the effect which it had upon our population, and from such an observation, taken with an unprejudiced mind, found an opinion of the advantages and disadvantages emanating from the stage. The result of this observation I will now lay before my readers. I soon found, that I was almost the last person in the place who knew about the players beginning their achievements; for before I received the handbill, the whole tale had been carried from one person to another, and all people were thoroughly acquainted with the incident. There was great anticipation of success. The different actors were lauded to the skies. This man, was a most incomparable tragic performer; and that, shone forth unparalleled in a comic character. This woman, could command an audience in almost any capacity; and that, could sing so 79.-VOL. VII. enchantingly, the like was never heard. Perhaps some of my readers are thinking that these expectations were disappointed; if so, I will very shortly undeceive them. They were to the utmost fulfilled. The novelty of the thing caused the house to be full, and the plain countryfied simplicity, (call it stupidity if you please,) of the audience, was unable to detect the faults of the actors; and their praise was consequently in almost every mouth. The first effect of all this, was a fresh importation of women of ill fame (and worse deed) to our place. Hitherto our own town and immediate neighbourhood had supplied themselves from themselves, with these slackvirtued ladies; but now the demand was greater, and recourse was had to the larger towns, not far distant, which exported females to stand at the doors of the theatre when the performance was concluded, and cater up all they could by fair speeches and invitations. I am a simple man, and I thought that, by coming into our town (which is small, and which has a good proportion of religion,) they might be bettered, and their morals improved. In process of time, those who might be called the young sparks of the place, began to doff their simplicity, and from listeners having become learners, now set up for teachers. Such a spirit spread among them, as I would not attempt to describe. Shakspeare, and Kean, and Macready, and Kemble, and Siddons, were continually in their mouths; and such a man spoke well on such a night, and another sung badly at another time. They all had a judgment, wheresoever they procured it from, and all an opinion. As these opinions were, for the most part, various, in the daytime they caused frequent strifes and quarrels among the parties holding them; and thus a nightly play was the cause of a daily broil. Criticism stepped forth, and she seated herself in the hearts of all, and to one she gave one counsel, and to another a different one; she blinded the eyes of some, and enlarged the optics of others; as she left judgment behind her, passion always stalked before her, and when she and her leader worked together, I cannot tell what mischief they made. Then another evil ensued. Before the actors came to the town, 2 Q that a certain personage, one of my neighbours, not remarkable for wit, who had a small apartment adjoining his shop, which was used as a counting-house, was unexpectedly called upon to attend a customer in the said shop, and being at the time busily employed in reading Shakspeare's to the person on whose account he had been summoned, and standing directly before him, on the opposite side of the counter, addressed him with, "Sir, my good friend, I'll change that name with you; And what makes you from Wittenburgh, Horatio?" the people were, for the most part, very regular in their habits, and generally went to bed at night at a reasonable time. But now the case was altered. It was late, very late before the parties came from the play-house, and when they did come, the different houses to which they belonged were put in confusion. There were people" Hamlet," walked very hurriedly up sitting up waiting for them, and then it was very late indeed before they went to bed; and thus there were trouble and uneasiness on all hands. My own case, once, at this period, may form a good illustration of what I am saying. I do not know whether I have yet mentioned to my readers my sister Johanna. If not, I am sure I have done her an injustice; for she is as regular and tidy an old maid as ever lived. It came to pass, however, that she took a fancy to see a play acted in our town: I cannot tell whether the fancy sprang from female curiosity or vanity, one source is as prolific as the other. She accordingly went; and I was obliged to sit up till I don't know what time, that I might let her into the house after the said play was finished; for she had taken our servant to accompany her there and home again. So up I sat; and to soothe my irritated patience, I smoked, whilst waiting for her, sixteen pipes of tobacco, instead of three, and drank six tumblers of brandy and water instead of onewhich drinking and smoking, I am sorry to say, did but increase my vexation. I promised her that I would expose her folly some day or other, and now I have had my revenge. Then, to see the pale and diseaselike looking faces which most of the shopkeepers presented every morning, was truly pitiable. It was quite wonderful to notice how they yawned, and rubbed their eyes, and blew their noses, as they took the shutters down belonging to their respective habitations. Poor fellows, it was so late when they returned from the theatre, that they had been obliged to rise without scarcely having any sleep. And the attendance of dramatical representations was the cause, in eleven cases out of twelve, of inattention to business. Instead of posting books, the tradesmen were reading plays; instead of taking that rest which was necessary to fit them for the proper discharge of secular duties, they were seeing them acted. It is reported, Then came an imitation of the manners which were recommended by theatrical representations. We had a whole host of careless, fearless, bragging, swaggering, swearing, drinking, licentious youngsters - followers in the noble train of Tom and Jerry; and a numerous company of idle gentry sprang up, who had pushed into their skulls an idea that they were superior to trade, and might do nothing to procure a livelihood; and the plain simplicity of religion was estimated by the views which are given of its counter-part in the "Hypocrite." There have been hypocrites in religion, but religion is a thing so much naturally opposed to men's passions and prejudices, that it is very detrimental to its interests to say any thing against its professors, which is either doubtful or general. But to return, we had a new tailor fresh from London, who came to rig out the men, and an army of milliners to beautify and improve the women, so that it might naturally be expected that we became altered for the better in every respect. Last scene of all, That ends this strange, eventful history." At the time in which the rage for play-acting was at its greatest height, a very injurious political feeling was at its height also. It was at the period in which the trial of the late queen was pending, and the inhabitants of the town were divided into two parties, who entitled themselves "King's men" and "Queen's men." Party rage ran high, and in a very little time ran into the theatre also. It was one night, that certain individuals, in the house, called for "God save the King" to be sung. It was I have for several years kept an attentive eye on the state, and particularly on the fertility, of the orchards in my neighbourhood, and I have noticed that such a moderate crop, as, if made into cider, would return a due profit to the farmer above the rent of his land, does not occur more frequently than about once in two years; rarely, perhaps, so often; and that such an abundance as reduces very considerably the value of the article, does not happen more than once in four or five years. commenced, and a pretty row there | reason why our orchards are suffered was over it. But it was very soon to fall under such great neglect, is unfortunately observed, that some in- solely because the cultivators of the dividuals in the place did not take off soil are ignorant of a method whereby their hats, and immediately a cry of the apple-tree may be made more "hats off," was bellowed from a multi-flourishing and productive. tude of mouths. The oppositionists were determined to persist in their opposition; and, therefore, a contest ensued. A man's hat was knocked off, and twenty more directly followed it. There was retaliation immediately. Blows fell full thickly. Bottles flew about in a most wondrous manner,hovering for a short time over the heads of the combatants, and then lighting down among them, as if tired with the alertness which they, the said bottles, had displayed. Women squalled, and men hooted. The lights were put out, and therefore the war was carried on in the dark, with sticks, and fists, and legs, &c. &c. ; and if, at this moment, the whole assembly had been petrified, and remained in that state for general observation, almost all the attitudes into which the human body can be twisted and contorted, would be seen as existing; and if, as has been said, language can be frozen, and all that was uttered at this period was consolidated into a mass, such a confusion and clashing of terms would exist, as to beggar description. The first effect of this was, that one man entered an action against another for thrashing him, which was tried at the next county assizes; and the last, that the players left the town. (By J. Gouch, F.L.S.) In all that part of the west of England with which I am acquainted, although a considerable portion of the land is set apart for the growth of the apple, and although those engaged in the employments of agriculture appear to have a sufficient regard for cider, if we may judge by the quantity they are observed to consume, yet it is observable that the orchards are very generally in a state far from flourishing, and that no very strenuous efforts are made to bring them into an improved condition. The value of cider as a drink for agricultural labourers is well known; the sale is always sure; I am therefore led to believe that the true Authentic tradition, however, renders it certain that there was a period when the produce of the orchard was more abundant and sure. Aged persons have informed me, that certain orchards which they have pointed out, have, within their remembrance, produced such a quantity of cider as now it would require the accumulation of seven years to equal. Neither let it be imagined that this assertion had its origin in the querulous feelings of decrepitude, similar to the case of the individual who thought that the taste of peaches had altered since the days of his youth. The persons to whom I allude, were able to specify the actual number of hogsheads; and could also assign what I believe to be a sufficient reason for the change. About the period to which I refer, the produce of the orchard was so abundant, and furnished so large a part of the ordinary drink of the country, that the minister of the day, Sir Robert Walpole, imagined he had discovered a new and eligible article for taxation. He therefore persuaded the legislature to pass an act, which not only laid a tax on this ancient and favourite beverage, but also spread wide the doors of the country gentlemen and their tenants to the visits of the inquisitors of the revenue. The public were determined to disappoint the expectation of the minister. But though the method adopted for this purpose was quite effectual, it must be admitted that it was not a prudent one. It would have been sufficient to leave the fruit to perish on the ground, but they went further, and by saw ing off the trees near the ground, convinced Sir Robert of the hopelessness of his expectation of a revenue from this source. The cider act was, in consequence, repealed, but the effect has been considerable even to the present day. The length of time that must elapse before new trees could be rendered productive, would probably induce many to put the land to some other use; the skilful cultivators were called away by death; those who were coming forward in life lost the opportunity of acquiring practical instruction from the lessons of the aged; and thus the most successful method of cultivation sunk into oblivion. It is in this way that I have been accustomed to account for the ignorance that now prevails, in comparison with the knowledge which our ancestors possessed, relative to the method of treating the apple-tree. When I have conversed with farmers on this subject, I have found them ready to listen to what might be said in recommendation of increased attention to the subject; but I have observed, very generally, that all they imagine necessary to be done is, to supply a sufficient quantity of manure. By mixing this with the soil, they say the rain will carry it down within reach of the roots; and the desired effect will necessarily follow. Very inconsistently, however, a crop of some kind or other is made to follow; in consequence, very little of the manure is left to descend to that depth, whither if it had reached, it might have been useful; but whither, by the ordinary influence of the descending moisture, even if not previously interrupted by a crop, I am well convinced it would never reach. It is not my intention to occupy much space in pointing out the errors of the practice adopted in the cultivation of the apple-tree, because, so far as the generality of farmers within my knowledge are concerned, they are guilty of no positive error whatever. Their error is merely negative; they do nothing at all. There is a practice, however, that perhaps is general, regarding rather the ground than the tree, that I have observed to have a bad effect. When the trees are unproductive, it is very natural that the farmer should wish to get some advantage from the ground in which they grow. This leads him to set about either ploughing or digging the soil, and scattering on it a good portion of manure. A crop, commonly of potatoes, is then made to occupy the ground. All his neighbours will join in encouraging him in this practice; and if he has recourse to books, he will commonly find them declaring in his favour. However, in spite of these authorities, I have found the following evils to arise from this course of practice: in a short time the soil shrinks from the roots, and they become exposed, or nearly so; it is then scarcely possible to avoid doing them an injury, and that too in a part in which they are least able to bear it; that is, near to the place where they are united to the trunk. Again, there is some reason to suspect, that when the ground close to a tree is frequently loosened, a greater disposition is shewn to throw up suckers; which always prove injurious to the parent tree. Another, and that not the least evil is, that the hat or the working instrument of the labourer will frequently come in contact with the depending branches, by which means it is not uncommon to see very extensive injury inflicted. The writing of this paper would have been a loss of labour on my part, if I had only designed to point out the neglected, and, consequently, unproductive state of the orchards, and the injuries which commonly result from the deficient management to which they are subjected. My intention is to point out a plan, whereby I believe these evils may be removed. But before I proceed to develop this, with its proofs and illustrations, it will be proper to state what it is that I consider as the object to be attained. According to the present method of proceeding, a scanty crop of apples is most frequently to be expected, with high prices for cider in consequence of the scarcity. At other times, perhaps once in four or five years, a very large quantity is obtained; a circumstance that is usually attended with a depreciation of price, so far as it regards those who, from any cause, are obliged to sell; while those who possess a greater degree of foresight, or who are not hard driven by other causes, wait patiently to see what the promise of the next year's crop may be. As two very abundant years |